


For Really Big Mistakes

by freshia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Groundhog Day, M/M, Slow Burn, Time Loop, Time Travel, typical amounts of sap from me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-14 15:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18951310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshia/pseuds/freshia
Summary: After completely embarrassing himself while Voltron tries to establish an alliance, Lance finds himself wishing he could go back and scrub the day clean -- just start all over and redo it entirely. And in a miraculous turn of events, he gets to!And then he gets to do it again. And again.And again.(A story where, while stuck in a time loop, Lance gets mad, sad, glad, and realizes that maybe all that rivalry had been adifferentmisdirected emotion -- all in the exact same day.)





	For Really Big Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to channel ye goode ol' days of Klance, so don't think too hard about when this takes place! Probably somewhere season 2ish? Enjoy :)

Lance wakes up the same way he always does, eye mask on to filter out the unnatural glow of the interior of the ship. Blue light is bad for your body’s natural sleeping rhythm -- he can’t remember who told him that, but they very clearly _weren’t_ Altean.

Lance wakes up the same way he always does, and pulls off his lavender mask. His comforter is cozy on top of him, his pillow is fluffy underneath his head, and he’s about to get very, _very_ well acquainted with this day.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

/

His routine is typical, after so long in the Castle -- brush his teeth, wash his face, comb his hair. Unless something drastic is going on, this is a schedule he sticks to, and there’s no real reason to diverge today. Lance gets dressed, exits his room, and goes to greet Hunk in the kitchen where he knows he’ll be.

And he’s right, Hunk is there, putting together plates of…

Something?

“The texture is a work in progress,” Hunk says after he notices Lance standing there, follows his dubious gaze right to the plates of vaguely sludge-looking food. “But it should taste just like scrambled eggs.”

He pauses. “You know, theoretically.”

Lance does _not_ know, but the smell is convincing enough, and let it _never_ be said that Lance McClain is not adventurous. So he grabs and spoonful and pulls it towards his mouth --

And he’s… Pleasantly surprised?

“Wow, Hunk, not bad!” Lance says, pushing another spoonful into his mouth. “I mean, the _texture_ is a little--”

“ _Work in progress_ ,” Hunk reminds him, and Lance shakes his head. Affectionately, of course.

Pidge shuffles in after, looking like she hasn’t slept, and starts shoveling in the food-goo like she didn’t even _notice_ the texture. Which is, in all honesty, probably true -- and nothing unusual. It’s a very typical, normal day in the Castle, and later Allura would probably have them run training exercises, or maybe do a supply run at Coran’s request. It’s so very, _very_ normal --

“Hey, team,” Shiro says, his sudden presence startling Lance out of his thoughts. When had _Shiro_ walked in? “Allura wants to have a refresh meeting before we land on Thelisia in a few hours, just so we’re all on the same page about this alliance thing. I already let Keith know, so meet up on the deck once you’re all done here. Let’s have a good day today guys, alright?”

Hunk nods, and Pidge grunts her affirmation, but Lance is too momentarily caught off guard to respond.

How could he have forgotten about the meeting in _Thelisia_?

/

One month ago, Thelisia had been… Bad. _Haunting_ , almost. The small planet, barely big enough for a main capital city and a smattering of suburbs, had the most similarities to Earth of all the planets they had visited. Just enough to make it almost _personal_ for Lance to drive the Galra out. An ocean just nearly the right shade of blue (though the wrong temperature,), the trees not so extremely tall, the fauna just _almost_ familiar -- 

But the destruction the Galra had done, the damage, couldn’t be fixed just by ridding the planet of them. He was used to that -- should have been, with all the different planets he’d seen, all the various levels of ruin. Sometimes they had been there so long, the roots ran deep, and the previous society had all but crumbled. Voltron could help give them their independence, but they couldn’t help them rebuild from scratch, couldn’t help regain a culture that was barely a whisper on the wind.

Thelisia wasn’t the worst he had seen, but it struck a certain chord. The ruins of the city capital, the pillaged farms on the outskirts of the suburbs, the haunted gazes in the almost-human eyes of the citizens…

It felt like as much of a relief as it did a betrayal when they finally left.

“If Voltron stayed around to watch every planet we help to make sure they recover to their former selves, we would never be able to help out other planets that might need liberation as well,” Allura had said, voice dripping with sympathy. “I hope you understand.”

And the Prime Minister did.

But part of the conditions of an alliance with Thelisia (“ _a valuable asset, with the way they manage to weave together technology and magic_!” Coran had said,) was to come back in a month’s time for negotiations.

But more important than that, for a proper introduction to Thelisian culture.

(It was always about sharing culture, making sure that the Paladins didn’t walk away with a less-than-stellar idea of the planet in their minds. Lance guessed he understood, in a way, but it wasn’t like they were out there _judging_ them for having their planet ruined.)

“We would hate for the great Paladins of Voltron to not see us at our full potential,” the Prime Minister had explained, “And don’t worry, a month is plenty of time for us to get back on our feet.”

Allura had agreed, of course. And Lance should have been keeping track of time, but he just-- hadn’t realized it had been a whole month _already_.

“-- ance? _Lance_.”

Hunk’s voice breaks Lance back out of his thoughts and into reality, jerking up to meet his friend’s concerned gaze. “Whaaa?”

Hunk sets a hand on his shoulder. “I said, _‘maybe we should get going?_ ’” he raises an eyebrow. “Are you getting sick? Because this is really pretty bad timing, but maybe we could stick you in the healing pod for--”

“Ugh, no!” Besides the fact that he was so caught up in his own mind that he’d forgotten to even touch the rest of his food. “ _Please_ , Hunk, I’m good as always. Can’t a guy think for a bit? Especially when he’s fantasizing about all the _ladies_ he’s going to meet tonight.”

From the table, Pidge groans, and he waggles an eyebrow for extra emphasis. “Anyway, since I was so caught up in my saucy imagination, I’m gonna chow down on this. You guys go ahead, tell Allura I’m right behind.”

“Oh, yeah, she’ll love that.” Hunk says, tossing his empty plate into the sink. Pidge follows suit. “Don’t be too late, please? If she makes us do more drills because you’re running behind again I’ll die.”

“Or _he_ will,” Pidge mutters darkly. Lance ignores that, waving them off.

“No promises!”

He shoves the rest of his not-scrambled eggs into his mouth as the two retreat, and then dumps his plate on top of the other two. He’s still not sure where exactly he stands, how he feels about going back to Thelisia, but he suspects he can manage to find the bright side. He always does, after all.

He backs out of the kitchen, letting his eyes roam over the kitchen one last time (Hunk hates it when he leaves his plates out,) and stumbles right into Keith.

Because he’s not looking forward, he basically trips over Keith’s shoes, and barely manages to right himself before he ends up flat on his face on the ground. Even worse, Keith is covered in a shiny sheen of sweat, which is _gross_ because in his effort to not look like an idiot Lance grabbed at Keith’s forearm. And now, Lance is partially covered in sweat, and probably smells like it too.

He opens his mouth to make a snarky comment, wiping his hand on his pants, but Keith levels him with such a withering glare that Lance’s mouth snaps back shut, his snarky comment dying right there in his throat.

It’s not unusual for Keith to look annoyed at Lance -- but at least most of the time, it’s _deserved_! Lance is man enough to admit that, maybe just... Not out loud. And as a matter of fact, at least as of _lately_ , he and Keith were on somewhat neutral ground.

But today, Lance hasn’t even managed to _do_ anything yet, and Keith already looks pissed off at him.

“Who pissed in _your_ wheaties?” Lance snaps, before he can even stop the words from spilling out. 

Lance does know what it’s about, that’s the worst part of it all -- he knows Keith detests the alliance stuff, that diplomacy isn’t exactly Keith’s strongest suit. That in all likelihood, it’s nothing but a stressful situation for Keith where he has to watch what he says and does and god knows that’s hard for him.

But.

Lance just cannot resist the temptation to be an asshole around Keith sometimes, like an invisible force pulling at him. _‘Be a dickhead_ ,’ it whispers. _‘Establish that dominance!_ ’.

Keith’s expression darkens, and then he pushes past Lance, making sure he bumps him out of the way with his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Lance lets out an indignant sound and glares after him. Some days, they _were_ on neutral ground -- and others, it was two steps forward and one step back.

/

Their mini pre-landing meeting is boring. Allura gives them all suits to wear -- all black, but with colored accents to match their respective lions.

“That way you’re still representing Voltron, and the lions,” she had stated, beaming proudly.

Allura takes all aspects of the “saviors of the universe” business seriously -- which Lance can admit is probably a good thing, considering everyone else seemed to have individual priorities.

(Although it could be a bit much, sometimes.)

The rest of the time between then and landing went as smoothly as it possibly _could_ have, with Keith specifically avoiding Lance. As they prepared to emerge from the Castle, Lance kept a careful eye on him, making sure to give him his best glare. Keith didn’t even bother sparing him a glance, but he was so carefully keeping his gaze locked in front that Lance was sure he noticed. _Good_. Lance got a weird burst of satisfaction knowing he was bothering Keith -- which he was going to conveniently place on the fact that he was just concerned Lance was going to blow the entire alliance for them, of course.

When they step out of the Castle, Lance realizes the Prime Minister wasn’t joking around about only needing a month.

There’s no way this is the same city that had been destroyed before, Lance thinks, as they’re paraded around and given a tour all at the same time. Maybe Lance hadn’t been paying that much attention to ruined landmarks on this alien planet before, but this is like -- an entirely different land. It was bright, and colorful, and he’s in awe _once again_ at the Thelisians and their planet.

Before, he had thought that Thelisia resembled Earth, but now he realizes it’s more like an Earth fantasy of the future, an urban metropolis with skyscrapers built in bizarre and seemingly impossible ways, all in under a month. It’s practically straight out of a sci-fi show.

The parade is over way too fast, Lance thinks. He’s never been particularly into architecture _before_ , but even the temptation of food at the upcoming banquet isn’t enough to make him want to abandon the tour.

But the day has to move on, and dinner is up next.

All these diplomacy meetings tend to be kind of similar, if not all just outright the same. The desire to share cultures is clearly more than just _universal_ , and food, song, and dance is always at the very center of that. Sometimes the order varies, but the main idea never does. It’d be kind of annoying, like showboating, if it weren’t all for _them_.

Because of all these meetings, Lance has tried so many different kinds of food by now, he usually doesn’t even blink. It’s better not to think too hard about it, anyway -- you can either eat like the locals, or offend the locals, and he thinks Allura would have _his_ head on a platter if he messed this up for them.

Still, Thelisian food is…

Well, to say the least, of all the familiar things about this planet, the food _was not one of them_.

Lance pokes gingerly around at his plate -- don’t think, just eat -- and swallows of a mouthful of what’s possibly the most conflicting texture he’s ever had in his mouth. Bony? Dry? Somehow kind of slimy, all at the same time? But he grins and bears it anyway, and then when he sneaks a peak at Keith…

He’s barely touched his food at all. _Typical_ , Lance thinks, that Keith can’t even do the bare minimum to look good in front of the literal aliens that they were trying to impress (that were also trying to impress them, complicated as this stuff got.). The least he could do is discreetly push it onto Hunk’s plate, or something. Hunk was adventurous, like a true foodie, and he’d try it all. Leaving it untouched? Totally rude.

And not just because Lance was mad he choked it down and Keith was going to get away with pushing the food around his plate like a toddler, not at _all_.

As if Keith can read his mind, he turns his gaze toward him and frowns. Keith had so far managed to keep his face schooled into something entirely neutral the entire time, despite his obvious discomfort, but Lance’s penetrating gaze turns out to be too much for him. He narrows his eyes dangerously, and Lance matches his expression right back.

“-- And I’m sorry, you were the… Blue paladin, yes?”

Lance breaks eye contact from Keith to look across the table, and bashfully realizes that the girl sitting across from him had been trying to talk to him this _entire_ time. She tucks a lock of -- not hair, exactly, but something close to it, thicker than hair -- behind an ear, and smiles.

She’s pretty, Lance thinks, but there’s… Something…

“Uh, yes, yes I am.” Lance puts on his best charmer act -- attracted to her or not, he had a reputation to uphold. She lights up at his acknowledgement, and introduces herself. L’ah Trist, daughter of the Prime Minister himself.

Haha _ha_ , what had Lance gotten himself into.

“What an honor,” Lance hears himself say, but his smile is tighter than usual and his mind is still elsewhere. Still, she doesn’t seem discouraged.

“Seeing as how the banquet is ending,” she says, each word coming through poised and careful, even through his real-time translator, “Would you care to dance with me?”

“Of course it would be my _pleasure_ ,” Lance says, breezily, adding a small wink at the end. L’ah gives a small giggle, and then pauses, looking thoughtful.

“Just to let you know, it is customary that I and whoever I choose would dance first, leading off the ball, so…”

“Not a problem at all.” Lance says, and it isn’t. He’s pretty decent at dancing -- and he’d probably just follow her lead anyway, just in case there are any weird alien Thelisian dancing rules he doesn’t know about.

She smiles, brightly, and Lance feels a little bit… _Gross_.

Firmly stamping down that last feeling, he follows her closely as she leads him away from the table, everyone else rising and following just behind. The ballroom is just a short walk away, in an area adjacent to the dining room, and people begin to congregate as the music begins.

Lance lets her lead, observing the ballroom, the way that the smooth flooring reminds him a bit of polished marble -- if marble somehow managed to look like an exact replica of the starry sky, twinkling and all. L’ah is talking to him about something, but he can’t say he’s paying full attention -- but he is staring a bit at her face. They’re so close, she really reminds him of someone…

It clicks, suddenly, just as the song starts to wind down and she completely misunderstands his staring. L’ah looks like his _sister_ , and she’s leaning in to _kiss him_.

He doesn’t really get what’s happening until she’s just a few centimeters from his lips, and then a surge of panic goes through him -- and he releases her and jerks backward, causing her to lose her footing and nearly stumble right onto the ground in front of him. He grabs her just before, and realizes with a jolt of horror that _everyone_ just saw that, because they’re the only two out on the floor.

She keeps her head ducked down for a second, and just as the song completely ends glances up at him.

L’ah is so red that he’s sure he’s never seen a human turn that color. Maybe it’s just a difference in anatomy, or something -- maybe Thelisians have redder blood? -- but the look on her face is something that can’t be interpreted as any other way than mortification.

Lance has to recover this, has to do something, but all he can do is kind of blankly gape at her. She quickly schools her expression back into a pleasant smile, but the deep red color is still staining her face, and she gives him a curtsy and leads him back toward the crowd.

“I’m -- I’m sorry, I must have--”

“Don’t mention it.” Lance interrupts her, and has to bite his tongue to keep from tacking on a _‘Please_.’ People are still staring, so she slowly backs away from him with a nod, and goes to disappear elsewhere.

He stands there, dumbfounded, and scrambling to find a way to properly react to what just transpired. Lance doesn’t even realize he’s standing next to Shiro and Keith, until Shiro puts a reassuring hand onto his shoulder, nearly making Lance jump out of his skin.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, trying to sound comforting, but Lance recognizes the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. _Crap_. It doesn’t take him long to realize why -- L’ah’s dad, the Prime Minister, had seen that.

Shiro suddenly frowns, looking up, and Lance follows his gaze to see Allura trying to discreetly wave him over. He gives one last half-nod at Lance, and then Lance is left, just Keith standing nearby.

Less people are staring now, turning their attention to the couples filling up the ballroom, but Lance still feels like an absolute moron. Even worse, he can feel Keith’s gaze on him, and he turns to glare at him.

“ _What_?”

Keith was just sort of staring at him blankly, but at the sharpness of Lance’s voice, he scowls. “Nothing.”

“ _Obviously_ _something_.” he snaps. Keith rolls his eyes.

“Don’t take the fact that you embarrassed yourself out on me.” he says, and Lance feels white-hot anger prickle at the back of his neck. He’s going red again, and not from being flustered this time. “It’s none of my business anyway.”

“And yet you apparently have an opinion.” he doesn’t even hear his voice getting louder. “So if you’re standing there thinking, ‘Wow, I can’t believe Lance just did that’, then--”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” Keith snaps back, and they’re starting to draw attention. “You have _no_ idea what I’m thinking!”

“Except that you’re clearly trying to make this whole thing as miserable for everyone as humanly possible! The Thelisians can probably smell the angst on you from a mile away. You’re probably--” Lance chokes out the next words, not even caring that they were both shouting. “You’re probably the whole reason I freaked out up there!”

Keith growls. “Stop blaming your problems on me! What are you saying, that _I’m_ the reason you couldn’t kiss her!?”

The sudden silence of the entire ballroom is _deafening_.

All the blood drains from Keith’s face, and Lance is sure he looks the same. There’s no music, no idle chatter, just silence and -- to Lance’s horror -- all of the eyes of the Thelisians _back on him_.

His eyes jump from Keith -- who looks a little like he had just seen a ghost -- to Shiro’s disapproving stare across the room, next to Allura, who had her face buried in her hands. Hunk and Pidge, in another corner, wear matching expressions of shock, and…

L’ah, who averts her gaze in embarrassment when he catches her eye.

_Shit_.

“Lance --” Keith starts, far more quietly than before, but Lance spins on his heel and marches straight past him.

/

He didn’t mean to make his way back to the Castle of Lions. Actually, he’s pretty sure that if he had _consciously_ been trying to find his way back, he wouldn’t have been able to -- he’d been so engrossed in the architecture during the parade that he hadn’t really been paying attention to routes or streets. But it really shouldn’t be that surprising, if he thinks about it -- back on Earth, when he was upset, he used to head out to the docks and dange his legs over the edge, letting the ocean water run over the tips of his toes that he’d dip into the sea.

But he doesn’t know this planet that well, so of course he would go to the second place he’d consider home.

Lance lets his feet drag himself through the castle, tempted to go to the hangar and board his lion. But that doesn’t seem quite right somehow, and instead he ends up in his room.

It _is_ a comforting place, in a way. On Earth, Lance would have never considered his room a place of sanctuary, or emotional vulnerability -- too many family members milling about, being noisy. Something he missed now, something he took for granted back then. But here, he was alone… And for once, that was a welcome change.

His eyes roam over the collection of trinkets sitting on his desk. Various little things picked up from planets in shops, mostly the touristy kind like you’d find back on Earth, though a few of them he picked up himself in nature. Things that were all useless, as far as he knew, but he kept as a reminder of all the places he’d been.

Maybe someday he’d give some of them away to his family.

His eye catches on a flash of pink sticking out from under a particularly large and rainbow-looking space rock, and he almost laughs when he remembers what’s printed on it.

Talk about ironic.

Lance slips out the giant pink eraser from the rock, running his fingers across the big, black lettering on it as he reads it out loud in the exact same way he had one month ago, when it was given to him --

/

“ **For Really Big Mistakes**?”

Lance looked from the eraser, to the Thelisian child -- maybe ten or so in Earth years, but he had no idea how Thelisians aged. He managed to stifle the laugh bubbling up in his throat at the awe-stricken way she looked back at him.

“You can read it!” she exclaimed, her voice somewhat low -- as if having just discovered some kind of great secret. “I knew it. I knew you were meant to have it!”

Lance frowned. This little girl had just told him that this was her mother’s -- most likely her dead mother’s, he thought with a grimace. The casualties of this battle were…. Particularly brutal. Probably why he felt so inclined to mingle more with the locals, despite the mixed feelings the planet gave him.

“Shouldn’t you keep it?” he urged her, but she’s shaking her head so fast her thick hair cords flop around behind her. She had it pulled back into what Lance would call a pony-tail, if it had been actual hair.

“I know you’ll take good care of it. You’re gonna defend the universe, so you’ll definitely need it more than me.’ her eyes seemed to show a bit of sadness, before they twinkled brightly.

Lance is about to ask what she means by that, but then Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder, and when Lance looked back to try and give the girl her eraser back one final time, the girl was gone.

/

At the time, Lance hadn’t thought that much of it. Earth things seemed to pop up in the most random of places, out in space, and it wasn’t so outlandish that a foreign planet would keep something like this around as an heirloom. Weirder things had happened.

Even if it did have a really stupid pun written on it.

Lance flips the eraser over and over, sighing as the words written on it seem to mock him.

**For Really Big Mistakes**.

“If only,” Lance scoffs, mumbling under his breath. If today had been written out onto a piece of paper, all the awful parts of it, what would he go back and “erase”?

… A lot. He wouldn’t be surprised if, besides making a huge ass out of himself, the alliance was totally lost and the entire day was just a waste of time. He’d managed to embarrass the Prime Minister’s daughter and get into a screaming match with a fellow Paladin, what a shining example Voltron was making.

“The whole _day_ has been a ‘Big Mistake’,” he tells the eraser, staring down at the words written onto it. “I’d just do the whole thing over again.”

He glances at the clock on the desk, and winces. Part of him is tempted to hide out here -- preferably _forever_ \-- but not going back and sleeping in the rooms provided would just make things worse, if it got out.

Not to mention that he has to face the music at some point.

He traces his steps back to the hotel-like building attached to the hall he had been in earlier, somewhat impressed that he had remembered the way. A few late night workers give him somewhat strange looks, as he sneaks back in so late, but to his great relief there’s nobody standing at the doorway to his room, or waiting for him in the hallway to chew him out.

Lance flops down onto the bed, not even bothering to change out of the suit, and drifts off while wondering what all had been said to Keith in the time he was gone.

/

Lance wakes up in the Castle.

It’s so natural, it doesn’t even register to Lance that there’s anything off at all, at first. And then the memories of the night before come flooding back, and he realizes he’s in a very rumpled and uncomfortable suit.

He swears and sits up, ramrod straight in his bed. Had he slept walk back to the Castle, or something? Allura was going to be pissed! He throws off the covers, not even bothering to change his clothes, and rushes out of the room.

He’s making a beeline toward the exit, admittedly without much of a plan beyond apologizing his ass off, when he passes the kitchen and jerks to a stop. Was that…

_The smell of scrambled eggs_?

He pokes his head in, and sure enough, there’s Hunk. Working with some food goo, just like the day before, just like it was nothing.

“... Hunk?” Lance asks, tentatively, because this is more than a little unusual. Unless Hunk was sent here because Allura didn’t think he’d leave his room, or something, which was very plausible. For all he knew, this was even a trap.

“Hey,” Hunk says, turning his head slightly to give Lance a small smile. Lance must have some kind of look on his face, because the smile drops slightly and Hunk continues, “The texture of this is a work in progress, just to let you know, and I know it looks a little -- Uh.”

Lance blinks.

“What… Are you wearing?” Hunk questions.

Glancing down at his rumpled suit, Lance grimaces. Maybe he should have changed first -- if he went outside looking like this, would he just make things worse? “It’s the suit Allura gave us all yesterday. I know it’s wrinkled, but it’s not _that_ bad, is it?”

Hunk ignores the latter part of his statement, eyeing Lance’s suit with confusion. “Allura gave you a suit?”

Lance raises an eyebrow in response. “She gave us all suits?”

“I didn’t get one.”

“What -- Yes, you did!” Lance crosses his arms. “You were wearing it at the ball yesterday. In Thelisia!”

Hunk stares at him blankly for a few seconds. “The ball that’s happening today?”

Lance opens his mouth to reply something smart, but can’t think of what to say fast enough before Pidge enters the kitchen. She looks exhausted, as usual, but still manages to wrinkle her nose when she spots Lance.

“What are you wearing?” she asks, but doesn’t wait for a reply before piling a plate up with food-goo. Lance pinches the bridge of his nose, face scrunched up in confusion.

“This is like, the worst deja-vu ever.” he grumbles.

“Not for me.” Pidge replies, in between mouthfuls of egg-flavored goop. She jabs her spoon in Lance’s direction, just for emphasis. “Seriously, who comes to breakfast in a suit?”

“One that really needs to be ironed, too,” Hunk tacks on.

Lance’s eyes flick between Pidge and Hunk, trying to figure out exactly what kind of prank they were trying to pull on him.

“Hey team,” Shiro’s voice comes from behind Lance, and he whips around. For the fact that that’s the second time in a row he’s done that, he still manages to startle Lance somehow. Shiro gives him an odd look, eyes scanning over the suit, but _thankfully_ he doesn’t say anything about it. “Allura wants to--”

“-- Have a meeting before we land in Thelisia?” Lance supplies, but it comes out as more of a question. If he’s heard all this before…

“... Yes, actually.” Shiro says slowly, raising an eyebrow. “I already let Keith know, so let’s reconvene on the deck once you’re done here?”

Lance is starting to fill in the pieces on what’s going on here. The strange, bizarre shaped pieces that make no sense, but pieces nonetheless.

“Sounds good,” Pidge replies, and Hunk nods in agreement. Lance, however, is already halfway out the door.

If he’s going to redo this day, that means he’s going to redo it right. And he’s definitely not starting it off by wearing this rumped suit.

He strips out of it almost immediately, as soon as the door to his bedroom closes behind him, and puts on his regular clothes. As he pulls on his jacket, he looks at himself, in determination, in the mirror. He could do this. If he was given this miraculous second chance somehow, he’d take it. He just needed to fix what he’d messed up, like bad sci-fi movie.

Exiting his room, Lance heads toward the deck, feeling confident to the point of almost feeling _cocky_ \--

And smacks directly into Keith.

( _Again_.)

And just seeing his face -- that familiar glare, mixed with annoyance -- the events from the night before (or the future’s? Technically?) come rushing back. He glares back at Keith before he can even really process, and predictably, Keith bristles.

“ _What_?” he snaps, crossing his arms in front of him -- and it’s just like last night all over again, but without the audience. Lance can feel the anger building up, the memory of the humiliation sending anger down his spine, and he makes what he would call a very _smart_ and _mature_ decision.

He takes a step backward.

“Nothing,” he says, but as Keith rolls his eyes and goes to move past him, Lance reaches out and snags his sleeve. “Uh -- _Wait_.”

He needs to say something, but instead he kind of stands there, with Keith’s eyes shooting murderous daggers at him. Lance bites his tongue, stomping down on the urge to be a shit head just because he _can_. He needs to focus on how to make today go _better_ , not worse. “I’m just telling you… Warning you! Not to do anything stupid tonight.”

Keith rips his sleeve back out of Lance’s hand, lip curling up in anger. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“Or _say_ anything stupid,” Lance continues, and Keith just continues staring him down with that sharp, pointed glare.

“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about yourself?” Keith snaps, and Lance opens his mouth to retort but all he receives is a glance at Keith’s back as he grumbles out a “ _Whatever_ ,” and walks away.

/

That entire interaction was, as it turned out, a poor way to handle it.

Lance had thought, maybe an advanced warning would do some good. But in hindsight, cryptic, kind-of-accusational (Lance might have been a little bitter about the night before, still, regardless of it never technically happening,) warnings said to someone _already_ in a bad mood might not have been… The wisest idea he’s ever had.

Then again, he really couldn’t quite find it in himself to care, because Keith was still being a total asshole about it. If Lance had thought it was bad enough the last time he went through this -- with the random glares and eyerolling -- it had nothing on the suspicious glowering Keith had been sending his way the entire night. Like _Lance_ was up to something! He’d be offended if he wasn’t so irritated.

But, the way Lance figured it, even if he had messed up on the thing with Keith, it didn’t really matter. The problem had stemmed from his interactions with L’ah, not _Keith_. Keith had just been the unfortunate catalyst, with his inability to shut up and not be a judgemental asshole. He was just the thing that detonated bomb.

And if there was no bomb planted, there was no detonation to be had. Practically _foolproof_.

As an added bonus, for all of Keith’s glaring at Lance, he gives him a surprisingly wide berth during the ball. Lance smoothly manages to inject a few lines about his alien girlfriend to L’ah, and after that, their banter keeps safely in the friend-zone. Lance mingles, and dances with a few other random people, and everything goes how it would have -- _should_ have -- gone normally.

A far better ending. No ruined alliances, no pissed off Allura and disappointed Shiro, and the best part of all was _no making an absolute idiot of himself in front of tons of people_. He doesn’t make his trip to the Castle, instead returning to the room assigned to him by the Thelisians once the festivities are over. For being a totally foreign room, it’s a comforting sight, and the bed is so cushy Lance practically feels like he’s laying on a cloud. He knows he’ll sleep soundly, and worry-free, now that whatever magical force has so _kindly_ allowed him to relive the day and fix what went wrong.

/

When Lance wakes up in his own bed in the Castle _this_ time, he nearly has a panic attack.

His mind provides several unlikely scenarios at first -- maybe he had dreamed the whole thing? Maybe someone carried him back? -- but as soon as he steps out of the room, still in his pajamas he had worn to bed in Thelisia last night, he can smell a hint of the scrambled egg food-goo wafting from the kitchen.

“Hunk,” Lance asks, when he makes his way to the source of the smell. “What day do we go back to Thelisia?”

“Uh, today?” Hunk answers, spatula still in hand as he turns to face him. Lance doesn’t even mutter out a quick ‘ _thank you’_ , just turns and storms off toward the training deck.

Keith always wakes up early, to have a go in the deck before anyone else -- or maybe he never even sleeps, Lance doesn’t particularly _care_.

“End simulation!” Lance shouts as the doors slide open, despite the fact that Keith is very obviously in the middle of something. Midswing, his sword hits absolutely nothing as the simulation suddenly ends, which throws him off his balance. He barely manages to not go toppling over, planting his foot just in time to regain his balance, and then he jerks his head up to look at Lance with pure venom in his eyes.

“What the _hell_?”

“Oh,” Lance starts, taking a few steps toward Keith, voice level in a dangerous way, “You don’t get to ‘what the hell’ _me_.” he stops just in front of him, narrowing his eyes. “You are _literally_ ruining my life.”

Keith makes a pained face, like having to talk to Lance is giving him a stomach ache. “What are you even _talking about_? I haven’t done anything to you,” he says, and then whispers something that sounds suspiciously like _“dramatic_.”

“Not yet, you haven’t!” Lance shouts. Keith blinks in surprise and confusion at the sudden outburst, before rolling his eyes.

“Whatever. If you just wanted this room, it’s yours now.”

“Oh no you don’t!” Lance says, moving to stand in front of Keith and block his way. When Keith moves to go around him, Lance pushes both of his hands out, shoving Keith backward. _Hard_. Keith stumbles, and the anger in his eyes isn’t even slightly hidden.

_Good_ , Lance thinks, somewhat deliriously -- this had been what he had _wanted_. Keith didn’t know the frustration of having to live the same day three times in a row, couldn’t have known the part he played in it, but Lance wanted to see him mad anyway. To get some kind of rise out of him -- take out his irritation on the one person who deserved it.

Because, clearly, Keith had to be at the center of this, if it wasn’t L’ah. It was the only explanation.

“Seriously,” Keith starts, voice coming through gritted teeth, “I know don’t what your problem is, but Get. Over it.”

Get _over it_? Lance went through one day of horrible humiliation, and then another day bored out of his mind at having done it all before, and now he has to do it _again_. He almost even tells Keith that, but then he’d have to explain, and no one would believe him and _a lot of good trying to talk to Keith did for him last time, anyway_.

Instead, he moves forward to try and shove Keith again, but Keith is quicker than him -- and expecting it this time. He grabs Lance by the front of his shirt and moves like he’s about to toss him to the ground --

“What’s going on!?”

At the sound of Shiro’s voice, Keith abruptly lets go of Lance. Lance stumbles backward for a moment, unprepared for being suddenly _dropped_ , and then steadies himself.

Shiro looks from Lance, to Keith, and then back to Lance, disapproval etched in the lines forming between his brows as they furrow.

“Seriously?” he snaps, and Lance winces. “On the day we all actually need to be on our best behavior? And you two are going to start it out like _this_?”

Keith, wisely, says nothing -- although Lance thinks he might be about one second away from blurting out _‘he started it_ ’. Lance casts his own gaze downward, feeling a lot like a child being scolded.

The rest of the day goes as normal as it possibly can, with the exception of Shiro watching over them like hawks. He thinks maybe he even might have gotten Pidge and Hunk in on it too, because they’re hovering around him like he might fling himself at Keith at any moment and brawl right there. He’d almost be offended, but there’s a small part of him that… Feels a little guilty about his blow-up earlier, at least for Shiro.

This time, with Pidge and Hunk crowding around him, L’ah doesn’t even get a chance to approach him. Keith doesn’t so much as make eye contact with Lance for the rest of the entire night.

As Lance lays in his cloud-soft bed that night, he starts brainstorming potential reasons _why_ he’s very clearly stuck in a time loop. Movie logic says it’s because of something unresolved -- and it clearly wasn’t him ruining the alliance like he first thought.

So, he mentally rifles through the days, and comes to what he’s _sure_ is the most obvious conclusion.

/

He’s positive he’s got it this time.

Clearly, he’d messed something up in the world when he’d somehow wished himself back in time, and the universe was trying to teach him a lesson about meddling with the past. _Well_ , lesson learned, universe! He was going to fix it this time for sure, because he was just going to recreate the very first day entirely.

He’s careful, making sure that everything goes as closely as it did pre-time loop. Everyone else is predictable, it’s his own memory that seems a little fuzzy. But still, it’s not _that_ many (non) days ago, and he follows the formula as close as he can: goes to the kitchen, lags behind and runs into Keith, makes his way to the meeting. He shoots glares every once and awhile at Keith throughout the day -- Lance is pretty sure he did that, although it’s hard to put any real anger behind it when he’s too busy feeling so sure of himself. He can practically _taste_ the relief he’ll feel when he wakes up in that cushy bed, and not in the Castle.

Lance flirts a little with L’ah, then turns her down (not much less embarrassing, even knowing it’s coming, and he’s fighting with himself not to cringe through the subsequent fight with Keith.)

After their screaming match, Lance heads back to the Castle, beelines to his room, and paces around a little.

Did he do anything else…?

Pausing, Lance’s hand twitches absentmindedly as he struggles to remember. It vaguely feels like he’s forgetting something, but…

Besides heading back to the room in Thelisia, he’s got nothing.

He traces his steps backward, ignoring all the odd looks from the Thelisians along the way to his room, and tucks himself into bed. He doesn’t dream, but he does rest a little easier, sure that _this_ time, he’s figured it out.

/

Lance nearly _screams_ when he wakes up back in the Castle.

The only reason he doesn’t is because his brain manages to catch up first -- maybe he missed a step, or misremembered some kind of action wrong. Maybe this was even more precise than he had thought. But that didn’t mean his _idea_ was wrong.

He gets out of bed his bed, takes off the rumpled suit ( _he’d even remembered to wear it to sleep_!), puts his regular clothes on, and heads to the kitchen.

Just one more time, he thinks. He won’t mess it up twice.

/

It doesn’t work. Lance wakes up in the Castle.

He grits his teeth and tries again.

/

And again.

/

And again...

/

On the seventh time he’s relived the day -- after trying various, subtle things, (eating slower, changing the tone of his voice, even _rehearsing facial expressions_ in the mirror to make sure he isn’t messing anything up), Lance gets the hint.

It isn’t working. Whatever he’s supposed to be doing, reliving this special kind of hell day _clearly_ isn’t it.

This realization comes during the ball, but unfortunately not before he embarasses L’ah and himself. Keith says “ _What?_ ”, and Lance is supposed to snap back with, “ _Clearly not nothing_ ,” but he looks around the ballroom for a brief moment, and…

He just _can’t_.

Instead, he can’t seem to stop his lips from twitching upward. How many times has he gone through this scenario, in the stupid hopeful belief it would fix this? Like some special kind of torture, except one that he’s putting _himself_ through? It _is_ kind of funny, (in a way that’s really not funny at all) and pretty soon he’s trying to hold back giggles, before giving up and full on gut-laughing.

Nobody’s really staring at them, because their voices haven’t escalated quite loud enough in the fight yet to grab anyone’s attention. Keith is alternating between staring at Lance like he’s lost his mind, and glancing around to see if anyone else can see this. Or, maybe, to see if anyone else would help him. Lance can’t even guess. In a way, he _does_ kind of feel like he’s losing his mind.

“What… What’s so funny?” Keith asks, all the edge in his voice gone and replaced with confusion and a bit of anxiety. Lance makes a vague, swooping gesture to their entire surroundings, nearly smacking a random Thelisian trying to pass by him.

“This!”

Keith blinks. “The… Ball?”

_The ball_ , Lance thinks, _and the dinner, the parade, the suits, their argument, and especially the never ending time loop._

Instead, he says, “All of it.”

Keith freezes, watching Lance like he’s unsure if this is some kind of trick. And then -- Keith surprises him.

To be honest, Lance wasn’t even sure he was capable of the emotion of surprise anymore, after living the same day over and over and over again. But it definitely catches him off-guard, the way Keith struggles to hide a small grin as he steps toward Lance and lowers his voice. Lance has to fight off the urge to step backward as Keith approaches, but fortunately, his own curiosity keeps him grounded to the spot.

“You aren’t supposed to say it out loud, especially when you’re at the thing,” Keith says, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s nothing in it that sounds chastising. As a matter of fact, he sounds… Amused.

Keith’s actually smiling now, although it’s slight, and Lance realizes with a lurch of his stomach that he hasn’t seen anything even close to a smile from Keith since before all of this time loop nonsense started. He feels a little guilty, because -- yeah, initially, Keith had been the one who woke up on the wrong side of the bed. But… Lance also could have easily avoided it.

And instead, he was just going out of his way to make both of their lives suck. The thought is so abrupt Lance has to cover up a sudden laugh with a cough.

“Do you want to leave?” he asks Keith, the words coming out before he can really even consider them -- though at this point, he’s kind of beyond _considering_ anything. If nothing today is even going to matter, who cares?

Keith’s eyebrows shoot upward, and he glances across the hall at Shiro.

“Should we--?” Keith starts, but Lance cuts him off.

“It’s fine,” he says, then tacks on quickly, “It’s late enough into this that they won’t even notice we’re gone. They’ll probably think we just went to bed early.”

“Or went to go fight behind the building…” Keith grumbles, but then stops and looks thoughtful. “... So… Where to?”

Lance grins as he leads Keith out the exit.

Just a short trip away from the capital center plaza, where the ball is always held, is a small clearing that has a cliff overlooking a lake. Still technically in the city, the shock of sudden nature always caught his attention when he passed by it. And every time he always wanted to go take it in -- but there had never seemed like there was _time_ , which in retrospect, seemed really dumb because all Lance _had_ was time now.

The closer they get, Lance realizes there’s even more to the clearing than he had thought. Small bugs blinking about like fireflies, in reds and blues and purples, lift up from the pinkish tinted grass as the two gently disturb it by walking across. They finally stop a few feet from the edge of the cliff, and Lance sneaks a peek at Keith, fishing for a reaction. He looks --

Awestruck.

Honestly, Lance feels that. It’s even better up close.

“You knew about this place?” Keith asks, breaking the silence between them that had, oddly enough, never felt uncomfortable. He holds out his palm as a few of the bugs land on it. The scene is oddly sweet, especially considering it’s Keith -- who Lance just felt he’d spent a _lifetime_ antagonizing.

“Saw it during the parade. These things are a surprise though,” Lance pokes at one of the bugs that rise off of Keith’s hand as he drops it back down to this side, all of their lights blinking and lighting up the night.

“... I thought you liked these kinds of things,” Keith says, breaking another long bout of comfortable silence between the two, and it takes a second for Lance to realize he’s talking about the entire alliance meeting with Thelisia in general and not the alien fireflies. Lance gives a shrug.

“I did.”

“ _‘Did_?’ So what happened?”

Lance scoops up a few bugs hovering around in front of him, and observes the way their colorful lights stream out from between his fingers, trying for an excuse to not have to look at Keith. Then he lifts his hands up and sets them free like he’s letting go of a dove.

“Just too many times, I guess. Same old same.”

For a second, Lance is worried that sounds too specific, and that Keith is going to scrunch up his nose the way he does sometimes when he’s confused or in disagreement with something said -- but instead, he lets out an airy laugh.

“I mean, _I_ feel that. I would have never known that _you_ didn’t enjoy it though.”

Lance hums at that, and they both go silent. At some point Lance sits down on the grass and Keith sits besides him and it’s… Kind of nice.

Lance wonders why they never hung out like this _before_ , and then wonders a little guiltily if that might just be _his_ fault.

And it’s serene, and peaceful, but it doesn’t last forever. Keith finally stretches, and Lance watches the way he rolls his neck to try and crack it. “We should probably head back soon,” he says after, carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll shatter something if he’s too brash. Lance stands up, and they wordlessly head back together. Lance lags just a little behind Keith this time.

They reach the hallway where their rooms are located, and Keith stops just in front of his door. Lance realizes for the first time that it’s next to his -- he’d never really given it much thought before, or Keith was already in bed by the time he got back so it didn’t even cross his mind.

“Lance, I…” Keith starts, hand hesitating, lingering on the door knob to his room. Lance glances toward him, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“... Nevermind.” he finally finishes, looking conflicted. “Goodnight.”

“Wait, what were you going to say?” Lance asks, and Keith shakes his head.

“Nothing.” he says, and then, “Maybe... Tomorrow.”

Lance shrugs it off while Keith is watching, with a nonchalant “ _Okay, then_ ,” but when he gets back into his room, he has to stop himself from banging his head against the wall.

/

After that, Lance decides to stop harassing Keith. There doesn’t seem to be a point, and it mostly just leads to _him_ getting embarrassed anyway, in one way or another.

Still, it hurts a little when Lance runs into him in the Castle halls the next morning and Keith glares at him as usual, even if he _had_ been expecting it. It’s like the night before never happened, because... It didn’t. 

Keith is just about to brush past him, looking confused at the fact that Lance isn’t saying anything after bumping into him, when Lance blurts out,

“I’m sorry!”

The words seem to linger in the air there, ‘ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry’_ , as Keith freezes. He turns and gives Lance a pinched look -- there’s that scrunched up face of _confusion-slash-disdain_. “For… _What_?”

“Bumping into you.” Lance says. “And… Everything.”

“Everything,” Keith repeats, looking dubious.

“Everything.” Lance confirms.

And maybe he really _had_ been going about this the wrong way the whole time he’s known Keith, because the look of surprise mixed with confusion -- more emotions than Lance knew Keith capable of at once, really -- was worth a hundred insults aimed in his direction.

“Um… Okay.” Keith says, like he’s never heard an apology before and doesn’t know how to respond. The thought makes Lance grin to himself a little bit, and Keith gives him another bizarre stare before turning and walking away from him.

For the first time, Lance thinks maybe he can have some _fun_ with this time loop nonsense.

/

He doesn’t give up trying for a solution, per _se_ , but he doesn’t actively go hunting for anything anymore either. Instead, he fills his time -- and he has _so_ much of it -- with throwing random compliments Keith’s way. After that apology got such a reaction out of him, Lance couldn’t stop thinking about what else he could say to throw Keith off his game. And in the end, if the day was just going to reset, it didn’t really _matter,_ did it?

The results were predictably _glorious_.

Lance should have been doing _this_ all along, instead of insulting his hair, or whatever. As a matter of fact, as Lance learned, complimenting his hair always earned him a Keith going pink all the way to his ears, which was an interesting shade on him. Or telling him he looked good in red earned a bashful look away. Lance was playing a game where there were no risks and only rewards, because no one would even remember to be able to make fun of him for it.

And, honestly, Lance kinda-really-sorta thought those things were true. So it wasn’t like he was _lying_. It had just always been easier to spit venom at each other than give out compliments -- though if he had known compliments would be more fun, maybe he wouldn’t have wasted so much time. They also had a bonus of shutting Keith up -- if Lance thought Keith was about to be a jerk, he’d just compliment his eye color, or something. 

The only reason Keith reacted as strongly as he did was because he had never been complimented before in his life, Lance was positive about this. There was no other explanation for why Keith flushed when Lance told him he had a nice face-shape, because seriously, who blushes at being complimented on their _face-shape_? 

There’s a few loops where Lance thinks about taking Keith back to the cliff, where he thinks about the look on Keith’s face as he takes in the sights -- but it somehow feels wrong, like it’ll lose the magic of the original moment if he does it over and over like that.

So, instead, he starts making it a habit to sneak off by himself and sit there until dawn breaks, or sometimes until he dozes off and wakes back up in the Castle.

He’s gazing out at the spot as the parade marches through the city, absent-mindedly pondering what exact time loop number he’s on (he’d lost count somewhere after the second week, and then couldn’t seem to be able to count backwards without confusing himself,) when a Thelisian follows his gaze and leans in toward him excitedly.

“The lake underneath that cliff is _fully breathable_ ,” they whisper, like it’s some kind of huge secret. Lance raises an eyebrow -- this is the first he’s heard of this.

“It’s true!” they insist, then tack on, “Well, for all oxygen breathers, at least. I hear that that’s fairly rare on other planets, but _we_ have multiple bodies of water like that.”

Thelisians sure were a proud bunch -- but Lance is vaguely grateful for it, if it means he can get information like that out of their bragging. “Wait, seriously?”

“Very seriously,” they say, their eyes twinkling at his interest. He gets the idea that if he complimented enough things on Thelisia, he could find out all sorts of secrets.

As soon as the dinner is over, Lance takes the opportunity to sneak off toward the lake. He’s figured out that as soon as the dance starts, no one bothers to go looking for him. He’s not quite sure how to feel about _that_ (what if he was _kidnapped_!? _Hello_?) but it’s worked out in his favor so far, at least.

The lake is… Mostly normal looking, aside from the color. But Thelisia was king of the “weirdly colored things” planets, and the lilac colored water didn’t exactly look uninviting to Lance’s eyes -- just different. Like maybe someone had dropped in a bathbomb.

Lance glances up toward the cliff, where he can just barely see the colorful fireflies blinking in the distance.

And then, he moves into the lake water.

It’s nice -- although, admittedly, Lance would find almost any body of water that wasn’t absolutely frigid a good time, so maybe he isn’t the best judge. But it’s a pleasant, lukewarm feeling to the touch. As he wades in deeper, and the water begins to reach is face, he sucks in a breath and holds it out of habit, his eyes squeezing shut on instinct.

And when he’s finally submerged, he opens them.

It’s beautiful underneath, even though his vision is limited to just what he can see by the moonlight. But it’s still bright enough to let him see the fish swimming around -- bright and colorful, like Earth’s ocean water fish.

Lance exhales all the air from his body, and then readies himself for a lungful of water as he slowly breathes in.

But…

It doesn’t happen. The sensation is almost _uncomfortable_ , at first, like he’s pulling in air that isn’t actually there, and for a brief second he thinks he’s going to suffocate. But then… He doesn’t. 

He’s breathing in _water_ , and the more he does it, the less odd the sensation even feels.

Slowly, Lance lets himself sink to the bottom of the lake floor, grinning up at the light streaming in from the moon the entire time.

/

As soon as Lance wakes up again, he knows he has to show someone his new discovery. He doesn’t know how many planets have breathable water, but he feels like it’s at least significant enough to show off to people who’ve never seen anything like it before.

Hunk is the first person to pop into his mind -- but he’s really not sure he’d be able to convince him to sneak away. Pidge is a possibility, but he doesn’t know if she would really get it like he does -- her take on it might be too analytical, and to be totally honest, he doesn’t want the place to lose the magic it has in his mind. Keith…

Keith had an amazing reaction to the cliffside clearing -- and he’s sure it wouldn’t take much effort to convince him to sneak off again. As a matter of fact, Keith seemed like the obvious choice, and Lance is almost surprised he wasn’t the first name to come to mind.

He heads straight for the training room, wincing as he remembers what happened the _last time_ he made a beeline for it.

But this time will be different. This time is _already_ different.

Lance enters the room and waits, patiently, for Keith to notice he’s there. It doesn’t take long -- Keith’s always been fairly perceptive of his surroundings -- and after he blocks an attack from the simulation he dismisses it and stares at Lance in open confusion.

“Hey,” Lance says, because he didn’t actually plan how this conversation was going to _start_. Keith stares back.

“Um… Hi?”

He looks too confused to be his usual grumpy self for the morning, and Lance is going to take _that_ opportunity by the horns. “Nice form,” he tells Keith, because complimenting him never really does get old. 

But instead of being flustered like usual, he raises an eyebrow, suspicion in his face evident. Keith opens his mouth to reply, but before he can Lance cuts him off with a shake of his head. “No, seriously, I meant it! Nice form.”

_Then_ Keith manages to look a bit embarrassed. Lance takes the opportunity to move closer, glancing behind him for good measure -- he still doesn’t quite know exactly _when_ to expect Shiro in here.

He decides to just go for it. If it doesn’t work, well… He guesses he can always try again tomorrow.

“After dinner tonight, meet me by the entrance right after the ball starts? I’ve got something really cool to show you.”

Keith goes a little slack-jawed. “Uh… What?”

“They won’t notice we’re gone,” Lance assures him, like he’s reading his mind (he may as well be,), and he must sound pretty convincing because Keith loses some of the apprehension in his posture. “And we won’t be missing anything important anyway, I promise.”

Before Keith can reply, Lance takes a few steps backward -- Shiro’s got to be on his way by now, he’s sure.

“What,” Keith says, sensing Lance’s retreat. “Wait. How do we know which entrance?”

“The one closest to you.” Lance says breezily, making Keith do the scrunched-up-nose thing. “Just trust me!”

Keith pauses, looking thoughtful. And then,

“Okay.”

And that had gone… Surprisingly well. Maybe there were advantages to this whole thing, after all. Lance grins all the way back to the kitchen, and can’t even manage to wipe the smile off for the rest of the day. He’s lucky they all think he’s just excited to socialize with the Thelisians, because no one questions him.

By the time the dinner is finally over with, Lance is itching to leave and go back to that lake with Keith in tow. He can practically quote all the side conversations he isn’t even a part of word-for-word, he’s heard it all so many times.

Lance catches Keith’s eye as they all get ready to get up, and gives him a small smile.

Keith gives a hesitant one back.

The break off into their usual arrangement begins, and Lance watches as Keith says something to Shiro, starts off toward the bathrooms…

And then turns and heads toward where Lance is waiting near the entrance.

Silently, Lance turns and they walk out together, trying to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. He grins once they’re safely out of earshot of anyone important. “Told you they wouldn’t notice.”

Lance is already practically bouncing toward the lake, and is pleased when Keith follows him -- although of _course_ it’s not without question. 

Well, it wouldn’t be Keith if he wasn’t a little paranoid, Lance guesses.

“Where are we going?” he asks, looking at Lance and then glancing around suspiciously. “Do you even know?”

“Uh, yes?” Lance replies, rolling his eyes. “ _I_ was paying attention during the _parade-slash-tour_ , so I know _lots_ of places.”

“So was I!” Keith says, defensive edge to his voice. Lance raises an eyebrow.

“Were you? Or were you just looking for potential escape routes in case of a Galra attack?”

Keith crosses his arms. “Well. It’s not like we’re at _war_ or anything.”

“They’re not coming back here.” Lance says. He definitely would have noticed a Galra invasion, after all this time. “And look, we’re almost here.”

The lake is only a few feet away, now, and Lance lets out a little _‘ta-dah!’_ as they move closer to it, picking up the pace. Keith stares.

“It’s…. Definitely a lake.” he says.

Lance nods. “But not just _any_ lake.”

“It’s… Purple?” Keith doesn’t shrug, but he might as well have, with the tone of his voice. Lance scowls.

“Well, yeah, but that’s not what’s cool about it! Listen, it’s a lake you can _breathe_ in.”

Keith stares blankly at him.

“It _is_!” Lance insists. “What do you want, proof? Because we’re going in, so that’s as much proof as you’re going to get, to be honest.”

“You could be trying to drown me,” Keith suggests, although the quirk of his lips lets Lance know he’s not serious. Lance scoffs.

“Puh- _lease_ , if either of us really wanted to kill each other by now, it would’ve already happened.”

Keith hums in amused agreement, but his grin quickly drops as Lance starts stripping -- unbuttoning his jacket first, shrugging out of it, and then starting on his undershirt. “What are you _doing_?”

“If _you_ want to go swimming in a three-piece suit, be my guest,” Lance says dryly, conveniently leaving out the fact that he had done just that in a yesterday that didn’t exist.

“I--” Keith sputters, as Lance pulls off his own pants. In response, Lance raises an eyebrow and lifts his hands up in a mock challenge motion while backing into the water, nothing but his boxers on.

Keith sighs, looking a little pink, and starts on the buttons on his suit. Lance lets out a whoop.

“I knew you weren’t a wimp!”

“Shut up,” Keith says, fumbling with his pants. By the time he takes his first steps in the water, Lance is already almost all the way in, bouncing on his toes to keep his head afloat.

“Fair warning, it feels a little weird at first. You gotta adjust.” Lance says. Keith shoots him a dirty look.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. In my underwear. With _you_.”

Lance pauses.

And then wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh, _saucy_ , but not _exactly_ where I was going with thi--!”

The rest of that sentence is never to be heard, because Keith moves faster than Lance can react to as he sweeps his legs out from under him. Losing his balance, Lance’s head dips underwater, and he has a brief moment of panic before he remembers _duh, right_ , he can breathe.

After a few seconds of Lance not reappearing, Keith dunks his head underwater too. His eyes are squeezed shut, but then he slowly opens them, and --

The way the beam of moonlight illuminates his hair, floating around his face, is almost… _Angelic_. Totally unfair, Lance thinks, that Keith can get the agility _and_ the good looks of the entire team. He even kind of forgets to _breathe_ for a moment, which Keith raises an eyebrow at as Lance dramatically inhales, looking for air.

He must think Lance is doing it to prove a point, though, because Keith -- with a bit of hesitation -- opens his own mouth, and inhales.

Lance watches, grinning, as the expressions cycle through the other’s face -- shock, confusion, awe, excitement. And then Keith looks at _him_ like --

Like he’s just as awe-inspiring as the lake itself.

Lance kicks upward on instinct, wincing slightly at the odd feeling of regular air filling his lungs as he breaches the surface. Keith follows a few seconds after, and for a brief moment Lance is terrified he’s going to question Lance’s sudden retreat.

But instead, Keith is grinning, and -- _did_ anything just happen? Was there not a moment? Did Lance just imagine that whole thing?

Maybe the time loop stuff _was_ seriously sending Lance off his rocker.

“That’s amazing,” Keith says, voice earnest, and Lance decides to abandon his stupid train of thought and stop over-analyzing. Keith’s hair usually has a bit of volume to it, but wet like this, it’s plastered to his forehead and around his ears, the long parts stuck to his neck.

Lance grins back at him.

“No need to thank me, I know I’m amazing.” Keith scoffs, and Lance smirks to himself as he lays on his back to float on the surface of the lake. The starry sky is especially pretty for some reason from here, Lance thinks.

He feels, rather than sees, the water ripple with Keith’s movement. “How’d you know about this? And…” there’s a pause in his voice, but without seeing his face, Lance can’t tell what emotion it’s full of. “Why… Invite me?”

“Because you’re miserable at these alliance things,” Lance says, automatically. “I thought I’d give you something to look forward to, at least.”

“Or _dread_.” Keith mumbles.

“Well…” Lance pauses, mostly for dramatic effect. “ _Did_ you dread it?”

“No.”

They both go silent, the only sounds being from the alien wildlife itself, and the occasional movement of Keith wading around. Then _that_ stops, and Lance tilts his head back just a bit to get a better look --

And he realizes Keith is laying there too, floating on his back in the same position Lance is, so close the top of his head is almost touching Lance’s.

He can’t really see it himself, but imagines their hair is probably intermingling, splayed out around their heads in the water, lit only by the moonlight. It must look like something, the two of them, from a bird’s-eye view.

(Suddenly, Lance _really_ wishes he had a bird’s-eye view.)

The silence goes on for longer -- and Lance thinks about breaking it, because he’s really not very good with long stretches of _quiet_ , but decides against it because this is almost… 

Comfortable.

Keith is the one to break it first, anyway, clearing his throat.

“We should… Probably get back,” he says, and the water ripples again. Lance straightens himself out, places his feet on the lake floor. Conveniently, they had never drifted that far from the bank in the first place. Keith is already almost all the way out by the time Lance reorients himself.

“And here I thought we were just going to have a nice water nap.”

Keith’s lips quirk up. “And end up drowning?”

“Can’t drown in a lake you can breathe in.” Lance points out, and Keith pauses.

“Oh, I guess that is true.”

Lance snorts, noticing Keith eyeing the discarded suits where they had stripped them off.

“We’re wet,” Keith frowns, staring down at the clothes like they had personally offended him. Lance squints at him. 

“Holy cow,” he replies, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “I didn’t notice. How did _that_ happen?”

“Shut up.” Keith marches over to his own pile of clothes, holding up the shirt with a sigh. “We couldn’t have thought to bring towels?”

“ _Seriously_?” Lance gawks at him, picking up his own clothes. “I’m not even convinced you have a proper hygiene routine, and you’re bitching about having to _drip-dry_?”

“I bathe regularly!” Keith snaps, and moves in front of Lance to lead the way back this time. “And it’s a water thing. I don’t like… Being wet and sopping like this.”

“Sure,” Lance replies, sounding unconvinced. “What are you, a cat?”

Keith stops so abruptly Lance almost slams into his back.

“ _What_ \--”

“If I meowed _right now_ , in reply to that, no one would ever believe you if you told them I did that.”

Lance freezes every muscle in his body. Keith stays still for a moment longer, then starts moving forward again like nothing was said at all. Lance almost screeches.

“Wait! Aren’t you -- Are you gonna --” he splutters, “You’re just gonna say that and _not do it_?”

Lance can’t see the front of his face, but he has a feeling Keith is smirking when he replies, “Yep.”

The rest of the walk home is filled with Lance’s protests as Keith grins to himself. When they finally approach their rooms, he quiets himself -- it’s late enough that no one will be up to question where they’ve been, but he doesn’t want to draw any attention anyway.

They stand in the hall, awkwardly silent, facing each other.

“Um,” Lance says, starting for his door, but Keith interrupts him before he can make an escape.

“Tomorrow’s nothing but meetings,” he says, carefully, and Lance gives him a confused look. “Ones that Allura handles while we’re just background decoration, basically.”

It’s been so long since Lance had thought about tomorrow beyond the time loop that it took Lance a second to remember what he was talking about. But Keith is shifting his weight from one foot to another, almost nervously, and then it clicks--

“Skipping out _twice_?” Lance puts a hand over his heart, pretending to be scandalized. That earns him an eye-roll from Keith.

“They won’t miss us.” Keith says, and it’s true. The Paladins were usually just there to _look good_.

“So what are you suggesting?”

“That we… Um, acquaint ourselves with Thelisian culture? In a diplomatic way. Constructive, diplomatic exploring.”

Lance grins. “Ditching the meeting?”

“ _Yes_.” Keith almost looks relieved Lance just came out and said it. “This place has magic, breathable lakes, and who knows what else. Let’s… Go out and look.”

“Okay,” Lance agrees. “You know, for diplomacy.”

“Right. For diplomacy.” Keith grins, slightly.

“Right.”

“Then…” Lance tilts his head, smile playing at his lips.

Keith nods. “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a oneshot, but it just got longer and longer and I was like.... Uhh, maybe I'll split this up a bit. The rest of the story is already written out, I just have to type it up, so expect the last part in... Less than a week I'd say? Depending on my work schedule.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!! It was so much fun to write for this ship again, I hope they aren't wildly ooc because it's been so long since I did a non-au lol. As always, feel free to point out any stupid mistakes. Proofreading turns my brain to mush by the end.
> 
> My [Tumblr](https://freshias.tumblr.com)  
> My [Twitter](https://twitter.com/yordlecompstomp)


End file.
